


Ripples

by J_D_McCormick



Category: Batman - All Media Types, DC Animated Movie Universe, Justice League Dark: Apokolips War
Genre: DCAMU, Fix-It, Gen, Spoilers, Temporary Character Death, apokolips war, very specifically based on the DCAMU movie Justice league Dark Apokolips War
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-07
Updated: 2020-05-07
Packaged: 2021-03-02 23:02:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,783
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24064774
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/J_D_McCormick/pseuds/J_D_McCormick
Summary: Dick snarls as he wraps his arms around the parademon’s neck, pressing his escrima sticks to its throat and preparing to shock it. For a moment, Damian feels assured; that his brother is going to save him, that they will be able to fend off the last of their foes and retreat together.Then, Dick is thrown from the parademon’s back, sent crashing down to the ground.Then, the parademon’s wrist blade is embedded deep in the centre of Dick’s chest.Then, Dick screams.~You may travel back in time, but a timeline is never erased. And a disturbance creates ripples.
Relationships: Dick Grayson & Damian Wayne
Comments: 12
Kudos: 144





	Ripples

**Author's Note:**

> In which I follow through with the 'fix-it' of Barry's second Flashpoint - but timelines create ripples, and sometimes, they let themselves be known.

“Dick!”

The plan has failed.

Damian had thought it would; he had wanted to talk to Father and Clark, tell them the flaws he could see and try to fix them, but Dick had persuaded him not to. Said that this plan was the best they had, that they didn’t have the time to try and come up with a new one. Reassured him.

But the parademons are here, and stronger than before, showing traces of Doomsday’s DNA. And some of Clark’s.

Damian assumes that the away team is dead. That his father is dead. He does not think of that while on the battlefield.

The Titans have fought valiantly. They have come together and fought the hardest they ever have, as viciously as Damian has ever seen. It hasn’t helped. They are still losing, and badly. Garfield is crumpled at the base of the tower, neck broken - he looks smaller than Damian ever remembers him being in life. A few pieces of the scarab lie scattered across the parking lot, but Blue Beetle himself is long gone, throat slashed and body tossed to the ocean. Conner was still fighting, last Damian saw, but if the battle is still waging it’s far from here; Wonder Girl lies in three pieces, scattered.

And in the centre of it all, Dick kneels above Kori’ander, eyes wide, hand hovering uncertainly. Their leader is torn in two, her blood a brighter red than that of humans, the sick white of her vertebrae contrasted starkly with the dark mess of her guts, strewn carelessly, deposited like trash. There is nothing to be done, no chance of helping her, but Damian knows that Dick is in the throes of shock at the grisly sight and his mind is refusing to understand that.

“ _Dick_!”

His brother finally looks up at him, skin pallid and eyes haunted behind their lenses. Damian sheathes his sword into a fleshy part of a parademon that flies towards him, hissing when it barely slows the creature, even as he pulls the sword away and leaves a wicked gash in its place. He spins and kicks the parademon in the head, successfully toppling it off the cliff at the edge of the island, and hears as Dick shocks another strongly enough for it to back off. He casts his eyes around for Raven.

“We must retreat. Fall back and wait for reinforcements.” Damian calls. “Where is Raven?”

He hears a bolt of her magic and turns – spots a parademon that has also heard the noise, and is looking towards it. He leaps for it, raising his sword, ready to plunge it deep into he back of the creature’s neck, but as it continues to turn it spots him, easily catches him midair, and throws him. Damian tumbles, head over heel, grunting as he impacts the ground hard enough to bounce and continue rolling. His sword is knocked from his hands, and in the dizzying tilt of the world as he slides to a halt, he cannot see where it has landed. The parademon looms tall, closing in, sharp claws and teeth at the ready, prepared to tear him apart as it has his teammates – and then Nightwing is there.

Dick snarls as he wraps his arms around the parademon’s neck, pressing his escrima sticks to its throat and preparing to shock it. For a moment, Damian feels assured; that his brother is going to save him, that they will be able to fend off the last of their foes and retreat together.

Then, Dick is thrown from the parademon’s back, sent crashing down to the ground.

Then, the parademon’s wrist blade is embedded deep in the centre of Dick’s chest.

Then, Dick screams.

It’s the last sound Damian is aware of before the ringing starts, the sounds of battle bleeding away until it’s all he can hear. He stares, as the parademon lifts Dick by the blade stabbed clean through his chest; watches Dick spasm, jerkily attempt to grip at the blade, as if to pull it out. The parademon throws him aside, and Damian watches as the blade slisp from Dick’s chest, followed by a rush of blood. He sees it and knows it is a mortal wound, that the damage is done and irreparable, that within seconds his brother will be dead. Still, he feels himself desperately push upwards, trying to run, trying to reach Dick, his brother, his _only family_ , before he can lose him, before he loses everything-

The parademon swipes at him and catches him in the face. There is pain, the feeling of again being flung through the air, and then there is nothing.

~

Damian shoots upright in bed, gasping. He can feel his heart hammering fast in his chest, which seems odd, because he is certain he felt it break and crumble to dust in his chest. He is still a moment, catching his breath, willing his ears to hear past his own rushing blood, before throwing the covers from himself and hurrying up to his feet.

The tower looks the same as ever, untouched, pristine and standing tall. Nothing has happened to it in the few hours since Damian fell asleep, and he doesn’t know why he is relieved. It was just a bad dream and he knows this, he’s had his fair share of nightmares, far too many sleepless nights marred by horrific things playing out behind his eyelids, but… This has unsettled him, far beyond most nightmares.

He reaches the door to Dick’s bedroom and stops, hesitating. He’s not a small child anymore – he’s halfway to sixteen, almost as tall as Dick is now and nearly as broad, far too big to be running to his brother’s bed after bad dreams. Besides which, Kori’ander shares his bed, and Damian isn’t sure he wants her to see him like this, in a moment of childish weakness, rushing to the nearest source of comfort.

He remembers the brightness of her blood and swallows thickly, suddenly worried for what he’ll find; if she’ll be whole. It both makes him want to flee, and drives him to check. He pushes open the door and peers into the room.

It’s dark, but Damian’s eyes adjust quickly. Dick and Kori’ander are tangled in the sheets, sleeping soundly; Damian can see the rise and fall of their chests, hear the quiet rasp of Dick’s breathing which his brother insists does not count as snoring. He’s still debating whether or not to actually wake his brother when Dick stirs, lifting his head and looking over to Damian blearily.

“Dami?” He mumbles after a moment.

“I’m sorry.” Damian murmurs lowly. “I didn’t mean to disturb you…”

“’S alright.” Dick says. He carefully maneuvres himself up out of bed, yawning – leans down and gently soothes Kori’ander back to sleep when she stirs. He pads over to Damian, touching his cheek gently and smiling.

“Bad dreams?” He asks, voice still soft with sleep.

Damian averts his eyes. “Yes. A… bad nightmare. I cannot shake it.”

“Happens to the best of us.” Dick hums, ruffling Damian’s hair gently. “Let’s get some hot chocolates, see if that doesn’t help, hm?”

Damian cannot help smiling a little as he follows Dick through to the Tower’s kitchen, helping him pull out everything necessary to make the drinks.

“You want to talk about it?” Dick asks over his shoulder as he sets the pan of milk to heat. Damian sits at the counter, leaning forwards and tracing the cool surface with a fingertip.

“It was… disturbing.” He murmurs. “There was a war. Everyone was killed. I… saw them killed. And then you…” He swallows thickly, clearing his throat a little to try and chase away the emotion bubbling up from his chest. “You died before my eyes, as well.”

“Geez, Damian. I’m sorry. Sounds like a bad one.” Dick winces, turning to look at Damian.

“I have had terrible dreams before; ones that are gruesome, that are disturbing. But this… This was different. There was… a clarity to it, that is not present in most of my dreams. One that makes me think more of my dreams of the League – the ones that are as much memory as they are imagination.” Damian tells him, frowning down at the countertop. It’s something he hasn’t been able to shrug off; something that has bothered him since he woke. “It was so real.”

Dick pours the warm milk into two mugs, adding hot chocolate powder and stirring them as he carries them over to the counter. He places one gently in front of Damian, and settles into a seat opposite him, cradling his own mug close to his chest.

“Dreams like that can be unsettling.” Dick murmurs. “I’ve had my share of them; some good, some bad. Everything from taking Kori out on a date to Bruce with a gun to my head, and all startlingly real.”

Something in Damian’s chest jolts at the thought; impressions of Batman staring down at him, dispassionate, a gun pressed squarely to his forehead.

“But,” Dick continues, meeting Damian’s eyes, bringing back his focus “for all they feel real, for all the small details, they’re still dreams. Just dreams. I’m still here, right in front of you, perfectly fine. So is everyone else. There’s no war. It’s okay.”

He reaches out, takes one of Damian’s hands, squeezes it gently. Damian gives him a small smile and squeezes back gratefully. Dick never fails to comfort him; always knows the right words, the right gestures, what Damian can accept and handle and what would be a step too far. Nothing soothes him like Dick’s presence.

Which is, he supposes, why the idea of losing Dick forms the basis of all his worst nightmares.

“Now, let’s enjoy these hot chocolates, hm? And if you’re not up for sleeping again after that, we can poke around at some case files. There’s this gang in Bludhaven that’s been giving me trouble, I reckon bringing in some backup will make it go much smoother.” Dick smiles at him.

Damian grins. The worst of the lingering nerves have left him; he doubts he could sleep soundly again tonight, but going over casefiles with Dick sounds perfect. By morning, he hopes, the sharp edges of the dream will have faded, and the world it showed will feel a little more distant. For now, tonight, he will focus on this one. This world, where his team is safe in their beds, and their tower stands tall on firm foundations.

This world where his brother is whole and by his side, and there are no screams; only their laughter.

He spares a thought to be glad he is here.

**Author's Note:**

> The Titans' deaths Fucked Me Up, man. Kori in particular just... oof. God. Still processing. So of course i wrote a fic about it! I don't know if it actually fixes anything, I definitely went for the bittersweet feeling the ending had, but hopefully you have enjoyed it regardless.
> 
> Feedback is as always much appreciated!!


End file.
